Although Jimmy Eat World has spent most of its two-decade run on major labels, the Tucson quartet remains the very definition of a cult band. Enthusiasts clutch the group’s records closely to their chests and call Jim Adkins’ earnest, emotionally forthright anthems the soundtrack to their lives. Those on the outside of the circle wonder how a power-pop band with a meat-and-potatoes delivery and no inclination to surprise anyone has earned such a large and dedicated fan base.

"Damage," the group’s eighth album, sounds exactly like Jimmy Eat World: distorted yet squared-away guitar, muscular drumming that’s a trifle lead-footed, strategic pauses that lend oomph to the group’s fist-pumping choruses and Adkins’ choirboy voice, still pure and adolescent-hopeful even as he approaches 40. The band continues to pull from the same sources it always has — obscure early emo bands such as Christie Front Drive and stadium rockers as massive as U2 and Bruce Springsteen.

Yet it would be a shame if the predictability of "Damage" discouraged unbelievers from giving the band a chance, or turned off longtime fans underwhelmed by the band’s last two full-lengths. There’s nothing particularly novel or nuanced about heartbreak: It’s a simple, ugly fact that can’t be filigreed and the new album offers an unflinching look at it. "Damage" contains some of Adkins’ most winsome melodies ("Book of Love," the title track) and, more importantly, most affecting lyrics (the ballad "Please Say No," which burns like the Gaslight Anthem, and the resigned, semi-acoustic "You Were Good"). A songwriter often accused of plying generalities has finally gotten specific.

He hasn’t developed a sense of humor in his old age and it’s likely he never will. But not everybody wants to crack wise in the midst of devastation. Sometimes, the best way to confront pain is to swan-dive right into the middle of it. That takes bravery, and the courage that has endeared Adkins to thousands is present in surplus.

If there’s anything different on "Damage," it’s the production, which occasionally submerges Adkins’ voice beneath the waves of guitar. At times, particularly on lead single "I Will Steal You Back," he sounds like a man battling to stay afloat. While the struggle suits the subject matter, it has the side effect of rendering Adkins whinier than he’s ever been. On "Invented," the restless (by Jimmy Eat World standards) album that preceded "Damage," Adkins was so in control, it occasionally felt like he was on autopilot; here, he spends much of the album on the verge of tears, totally present to the misfortune of his breakup.

Forty minutes of that can be tough to handle and may send you running straight for the party jams. But if you were ever thrown a lifeline by Adkins before — if your life was saved by "The Middle" or "Lucky Denver Mint" — you may be inclined to want to throw one back. It’s not going to make you trade in your copy of "Bleed American," but if you’re already invested in the Jimmy Eat World story, "Damage" is a chapter you shouldn’t miss.

String quartet and orchestra do not often perform together, but "Delights & Dances" makes a decent case for the combination. The Harlem Quartet and the Chicago Sinfonietta (under conductor Mei-Ann Chen) pull off an energetic, well-blended performance. Their collaboration is best served by the title work written by Michael Ables for the quartet, which features a bluesy opening melody followed by a wailing bluegrass interlude that culminates in an epic, colorful finale. Music from Leonard Bernstein’s "West Side Story" — arranged into a concerto by Randall Craig Fleischer — is a little stiffer, but still enjoyable. Percussion and brass contribute to a splashy "Mambo" opening before the quartet members gently lean into a cha-cha melody that hints at "Maria." The shimmering quartet tones and the warm orchestra support each other admirably as the work moves into a languid rendering of the "America" opening and then heats up to a filigreed "Tonight" and a cinematic "Somewhere" finale. The recording also contains a moody Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra by Benjamin Lees and a brief but vibrant "Saibei Dance" by An-Lun Huang.

— Ronni Reich

Evil FriendsPortugal. The Man (Atlantic)

Wasilla, Alaska’s best-known musical export, Portugal. The Man is a strangely named psychedelic band with a knack for pop melody. "In the Mountain in the Cloud," the group’s 2011 album, was a career highlight, and the moment when Portugal left the rest of the Mercury Rev-Flaming Lips descendents in the dust. The group did so by tightening up its songcraft and making a few concessions to contemporary pop expectations. "Evil Friends," produced by Danger Mouse, continues that work, and if it never quite soars to the heights of "Mountain," it’s another winner from an underrated act that’s creeping up on a mass audience. The dizzy "Purple Yellow Red and Blue" — the closest thing to a straightforward pop-rock number these sonic explorers ever have cut — is likely to get all the attention, but closer "Smile," which builds from plucked acoustic to a sonic tidal wave of a conclusion, is even more impressive. Portugal. The Man misses the zaniness that used to be provided by utility man Ryan Neighbors, his assortment of vintage synths and his didgeridoo. The group may be getting more sane, which is not something a psych act ever really wants. But as moves on the mainstream go, it’s hard to think of one as tasteful and rewarding as this.

— Tris McCall

Born SinnerJ. Cole (Roc Nation)

For a very good rapper, J. Cole has had a tough time escaping the shadows of his forerunners. Cole’s work echoes that of Jay-Z, Drake and Kanye West, but on "Cole World," his 2011 debut, he didn’t sufficiently distinguish himself from any of them. "Born Sinner" suggests he’s aware of the problem — one track, "Let Nas Down," is practically an apology to a forerunner for the tentative steps he took on his debut — and even if he hasn’t corrected it completely, he’s on the right track. Cole’s sophomore effort is darker, moodier, more thoughtful and funnier than the original, and for the first time since he signed to Roc Nation, a picture of the North Carolina emcee emerges. He’s a slightly ambivalent hedonist — one struggling with his appetites, his sexism and his class resentments — and a man a little too worried about the future and living up to expectations to fully enjoy the party. His production continues to tighten up: The sound of "Born Sinner" is pulsing, synth-heavy and hypnotic, simultaneously evocative of the backstreet club and the luxury automobile showroom. Rap fans missing the "old Kanye" are likely to find "Born Sinner" rewarding, even if Cole continues to be an artist too awed by hip-hop history to make his own.